Lone Werewolf Duology (bxb)

2. The Rabbit in the Room

The walls and the ceiling glowed a muted white as the hospital room came into focus. Vinyl stretched under Volya's feet. Shivering leaves filtered sunlight before admitting it through the window. That was all Volya's reeling mind could grasp before the rest of the room disintegrated into a pandemonium.

Cole struggled to sit up in a narrow hospital bed, rattling the equipment to which he was tethered by tubes. The electronics buzzed, beeped and charted jagged lines on multiple screens. It called for dramatic music and muted dialogue like in the medical show the Americans loved so much.

The circle of power—the true circle of power, consisting of four humans, not the fiery one he drew—broke. The Anders' family washed past him towards their husband and father.

Dazed, Volya walked in the opposite direction. He thought Liam's hand had brushed his elbow, but he shook it off and got out of the room and into the hall. There was a large square window at its end, old-fashioned enough to have a wide windowsill. Volya leaned over it with his elbows and took his head into his hands. He did it?

The uneven conversation punctuated by the bursts of laughter came from Cole's room. Yes, he probably did it.

Two nurses rushed by. The loudspeaker called for Dr. Jyoti. Then the same shuffling, hurried steps announced one of the nurses returning to her post. The other stayed in Cole's room.

Yeah, he did it.

Another set of steps made a bee-line for him a few minutes later. These ones were intimately familiar. Liam's hands landed on his shoulders. "Are you alright, bae?"

"Uh-huh." Volya turned around, finding himself practically in Liam's embrace.

The windowsill dug into his back as he leaned against it. Liam's cheeks still glistened wet. His eyes, luminous at the worst of times, now were impossible to meet without a strong urge to smile back at him. Volya did, then dropped his glance to his wax-stained hands and started peeling one flattened patch.

"You should be with us in dad's room," Liam said softly and reached for his hair. Some wax must have flaked onto Volya's curls, but he tilted his head away from Liam's touch. If he had some wax in his hair, so what?

"Your father had missed five years of your life. He needs to absorb that you are twenty-two. That Anabelle is seventeen. His mind is in a jumble now." Volya darted a furtive glance down the hall. The hospital was as full of urgent smells and sounds as it had been before the ritual, but nobody was running toward them yet. Volya lowered his voice to a whisper just in case. "He needs to put everything in its place, before you can spring anything else on him."

Or anyone.

Liam massaged Volya's shoulders. "Nobody is coming, bae. And this is the US of A. You're eighteen, so we can do whatever we want."

Volya gave himself a small shake to make his bangs fall over his eyes. Must Liam bring this up when he should be enjoying his time with the family?

"I'm going to Russia in a week. If a word gets out about us, there are bound to be people who'd take exception. Not that I can't deal, but I'd rather not look over my shoulder all the time."

"You don't have to go at all. I spoke to the legal team."

Volya groaned. "Of course you did."

"Yes, I did it again," Liam said forcefully. "All we need for your student visa is to go to Mexico for a few days. We'll work on your tan, have a bit of fun, then re-enter the States and that's it. UCLA had admitted you, we have everything in hand. Everything."

Volya instinctively opened his clenched hand. A tongue of flame rose from the middle of his palm. "Please, don't start... I have to go." Another tongue sprang up, joined the first. Then the third one.